For The One I Love
by Darkfire75
Summary: It wasn't everyday that the country of love -fell- in love. OC/France, FrUk, England/OC
1. Chapter 1

_**Author's note:**__ Okay, this is the start of one of my first multi-chaptered fics in months. This idea randomly came to me the other night and even though I anticipate a LOT of angst, hopefully it can end pleasantly, because I'm a sucker for happy endings. So anyway, I can't predict when I'll get chapters done. I don't want to put unnecessary pressure on myself or anything, so I'll go at my own pace. There is an OC in here but I'm actually going to give him some personality and an actual role in the fic. He's not just some character that will show up once or twice, he's a very prominient character. But enough on that, I'll let you read the first chapter :'D_

**Pairings will include:** OC/France, France/England, and possibly others in future chapters.

Chapter 1

* * *

It wasn't everyday that the country of love _fell_ in love.

Francis was the type of man who didn't like to settle down. He was as free as the wind and loved the freedom of not being tied down to someone. Sure, there were those nations he might have had a desire to sleep with. But to love? He couldn't see himself seriously loving them.

The first time he met Jean was at a wine-tasting event. The finest wine in France was being passed around by thousands of people and Francis couldn't be happier. He himself had already tasted all the wine there and enjoyed seeing the pleasant looks from all his citizens and foreigners alike as they talked amongst themselves.

A dark haired man, obviously of Parisian decent, walked up to him at one of the tables. He had blue eyes, not like his own of course, but startling enough and light stubble along his cheeks. He reached for a piece of cheese and apparently noticed Francis' eyes on him. He smiled and stood back. "Something on my face, sir?" he asked.

Francis blinked and blushed slightly, angry at himself for being caught at staring at this stranger. "No, forgive me. I just…"

"You act like you've never seen a man before," he teased, taking a sip of white wine.

"I haven't." The dark haired man quirked an eyebrow. "I mean, I have not seen a man like _you_ before."

The man looked shocked before his smile returned and he extended his hand. "I am Jean Dubois."

Francis stared at the hand a few moments before gathering up his courage and shaking it with a smile. "Francis Bonnefoy." It was silly. All his centuries of throwing himself at others and suddenly he found himself nervous and tongue-tied around some _human_?

He and Jean talked and Francis made up a backstory of his life, unsure why he was allowing himself to become close to this man. When the event was over and it was time to leave, Francis had planned on leaving straight away, but Jean stopped him and asked for his information and then for a possible rendezvous in the future. He couldn't very well say no to him now. He actually enjoyed Jean's company though and ended up giving him his cell phone number and home address.

The second time he met Jean was the following week. They met at a small café and ordered food and talked of pleasant things.

"So are you seeing anyone?" Jean asked casually.

Francis paused in his meal. "No," he answered solemnly. "I seek love but…never truly find it."

"I think you have." Jean grinned slightly and looked away, turning his attention back to his food. Francis blinked and smiled, finding that he enjoyed Jean's company more and more. On their third rendezvous, they went out to dinner and when Jean decided to walk him back home (he really didn't have to, but he was old-fashioned like that), Francis was feeling more nervous than he had ever felt in his entire life. This man…this human…he was able to bring out emotions Francis had never thought possible.

And so on his doorstep he pulled Jean closer to himself and kissed him. He'd kissed plenty of people, humans and nations alike, before, but Jean felt different than the others. When he pulled back, his cheeks were flushed. "I'm sorry," he mumbled. "I was too forward—"

Jean put a hand on his cheek and caressed it, smiling beautifully at him. "Don't apologize," he said as he leaned forward and stole a kiss. Francis' arms wrapped about his neck, pulling him closer. Jean broke the kiss and stared into the other's eyes and it was in that moment, that one blissful moment, that Francis felt himself fall in love. "I like you, Francis," he whispered. "I like you a lot."

"I…" _What do I say? I have never felt like this…_

"We can take it slow."

And so they did. It had already been a month since he had met Jean and Francis felt happier than he had ever felt. There was a meeting happening in Paris and Francis had to lie to Jean and say it was "work-related." Which wasn't completely a lie, but Jean believed Francis was a businessman.

The other nations seemed to notice his change in demeanor and especially noticed he wasn't groping anyone. "Did something happen since the last time we saw Francis?" Matthew asked his brother curiously. "He seems really happy and he's not…groping anybody."

Alfred frowned and looked over at the Frenchman. "He looks fine to me, Mattie." He nudged Arthur with his elbow. "What do you think, Artie?"

Arthur glared at him and looked over at Francis. "What does it matter to _me_ how the frog looks?" he snarled.

"You two are impossible," Matthew hissed. "There's something obviously wrong with him and neither of you care?"

"He's happy," Alfred shrugged. "How is that wrong?"

"Indeed. If his hands aren't reaching around where they shouldn't belong then it's of no concern to me," Arthur added.

Francis' cell phone suddenly rang in the room and all eyes were on him. "Ah, f-forgive me," he said. "I was sure I had turned it off…" He looked down at who was calling and seemed to brighten considerably, making Arthur suddenly very curious. It couldn't be his boss then… "I'll just go take this and be right back, oui?" He stood up and left the room while putting the phone to his ear.

Arthur, ever the snoop, decided to follow him. "Pardon me, I need to use the loo," he stated as he stood up. He passed by Francis who was out in the hall on his cell phone, talking animatedly and _smiling_. He had to admit Francis did look nice when he smiled. He shook his head and hid around a corner to listen in.

"It shouldn't be much longer," he was saying in French. "Another half hour at the most. Yes, I promise to meet you at the restaurant." He paused in his pacing and laughed. "Jean, you really worry too much about me. I will see you later. Good bye. I love you."

_I love you._

Arthur stiffened where he stood, watching Francis walk back into the meeting room. A million things were running through his mind. _He's meeting someone after this. Someone named Jean. Who is this Jean?_ He paused in his thoughts. "Why the bloody hell do I even _care_?" he growled to himself. Shaking his head, he walked back into the room, taking his seat beside Alfred and looking across at Francis. Obviously in the past month or so, Francis had met someone special.

And Arthur didn't like that.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Author's note:**__ Okay, so here's the second chapter! After this, I'll be posting Chapter 3 since this chapter is so short. You lucky people :D I'm sorry if the French is wrong here. I know google translate is horrible but it's the only thing I have D: Now, without further adieu, read on~ _

Chapter 2

* * *

The first thing Arthur did was try to remain calm. Who the frog dated wasn't any concern of his anyway, right? As long as Francis wasn't molesting _him_ anymore, all was well. But the Brit couldn't shake off this nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach. Knowing that Francis was off having a grand ol' time with some person named 'Jean' irked him for some reason.

"Arthur?" He jumped slightly and turned around to see both Alfred and Matthew standing behind him. "Is something wrong?" the quieter of the two continued.

"No," he snapped, hoping they would drop the subject.

"Did you go out and spy on Francis' phone call?"

"W-What?! What ever gave you that idea?" he shrieked, blushing furiously. Matthew gave him a _look_. "All right, yes. I did," he growled.

"Whoa, didn't know you were into spyin', Artie," Alfred laughed.

"Shut up."

"What did you find out?" Matthew urged.

"He's…He's met someone," Arthur said softly.

"Met someone?" Alfred repeated. "Like…a girlfriend?"

"Boyfriend, if the name 'Jean' is anything to go by."

"Francis is dating?" Matthew mumbled. "I wonder why he hasn't said anything…"

"Does he routinely discuss his romances?" Arthur sneered. "This is just another fling of his, mark my words. He knows how fruitless falling for a human is anyway."

"You don't think he's honestly…"

"What?" Alfred said.

"Well…in love?" the Canadian shrugged.

Arthur stilled, thinking back to the words Francis had spoken over the phone. "I-It's preposterous. Francis doesn't _fall in love_. You know that."

"But what if he did?"

"He didn't. End of discussion." Arthur hurriedly left the building feeling angrier than he'd ever felt.

Alfred and Matthew watched him leave with curious eyes. "Was it just me or was Artie a little bit dickier than usual?" Alfred muttered.

Arthur ran out of the building to find a cab. He was so agitated and it was all because of that stupid frog! He debated opening his cell phone and calling Francis, just out of spite and not because he was concerned or anything. Biting his lip and looking around himself, he took his cell phone out of his pocket and flipped it open. He scrolled down to Francis' name and pressed the enter button. It rang a few times until he heard someone pick up.

He almost spoke first, when a strange voice answered instead. _"Bonjour? Téléphone Francis Bonnefoy. Qui est ce?"_

Arthur froze on the sidewalk, his green eyes wide.

_"Bonjour?"_ the voice asked again. _"Il y a quelqu'un?"_

_"Jean, qui est ce?"_ he heard Francis mumble softly.

_"Personne, je suppose."_ There was a dial tone.

Arthur let the phone fall away from his ear as his heart thumped wildly. Francis was…sleeping…with this person. He tried to wrap his mind around everything and felt the anger start to rise again. "This is bloody stupid," he growled. "I don't _care_ who he fucks." Even after hailing a cab and asking to be taken to his hotel, Arthur knew in his heart he was lying to himself.

* * *

_French translations (that are probably wrong, so please go easy on me ;__; ):_

Bonjour? Téléphone Francis Bonnefoy. Qui est ce? - Hello? Francis Bonnefoy's phone. Who is it?

Il y a quelqu'un? - Anyone there?

Personne, je suppose. - No one, I guess.


	3. Chapter 3

_**Author's note:**__ Here's chapter 3! This one is NOT the climax of the story, even if it appears to be so. There is a LOT more to go in this fic before France and England even think of being together. Beware of drama, but with these two guys, isn't there always drama? XD I enjoyed writing this chapter a little too much..._

Chapter 3

* * *

Over the next few days that the countries were to be meeting, Arthur kept a constant eye on Francis. He told himself it was because he was concerned for a fellow nation, not because he had any feelings for the Frenchman. He had loved humans before and he knew the risk. Francis knew the risk too, which made Arthur confused as to why he would put himself through something like this.

"Are you going to keep spying on him?" Matthew growled one afternoon.

"It's for his own good," Arthur snapped back.

"I think you're just jealous," Alfred teased as he popped a fry into his mouth.

Arthur rounded on him with a glare. "I am NOT jealous. What on Earth would I be jealous _about_?"

Alfred smirked, which only made the Brit angrier. Arthur steeled himself and looked out the window of the building, spotting Francis as he exited a strange car. He watched as Francis took a few steps out of the car, but then turned around and leaned down over the passenger's seat. Arthur's throat felt dry.

"If you're not jealous, you need to stop looking like he just ran over your puppy," Alfred commented.

Arthur stood up and whacked the American over the head before going to take his seat at the table. Francis walked in not a moment after. "_Bonjour_," he greeted pleasantly, hanging his coat up on a rack.

"Hi, Papa," Matthew smiled.

"Heya, Francis!" Alfred greeted. "Have a good night?"

"Oh, yes," Francis replied with a wink. "It was very nice."

Arthur heard the hidden implications but told himself the anger bubbling inside was just because he hated Francis and nothing more.

Other countries started filing into the room, followed by constant chatter. Arthur was trying his hardest to remain invisible to Francis as he talked away with everyone. "_Angleterre_," he said suddenly and Arthur froze in his seat. "You have been awfully quiet. Is something wrong?"

"No," he answered coolly, his heartbeat racing.

"So hey, Francis," Alfred said loudly, turning the Frenchman's attention back on him. "I was kinda hoping you could show me around Paris after today's meeting. Since there's like no fast food places here and all, I figured you'd know the best places to get a meal."

Francis chuckled. "_Oui_, I do know the best places to get a meal. Unfortunately, I also have plans tonight."

"Oh?" Japan interjected, taking a seat beside Francis. "What kind of plans, Francis-san?"

"Dinner plans," he said softly, a light blush on his cheeks.

Arthur felt hatred erupt within him. "With who?" Matthew asked, eyeing Arthur closely.

"Just…someone."

"Francis, dude, are you blushing?" Alfred laughed.

"_N-Non_! I do not _blush_!"

"Could you all just shut up?" Arthur suddenly hissed.

All eyes turned towards him in alarm. "Arthur," Matthew said warningly.

The Brit ignored him. "We're here for a meeting, aren't we? Must we discuss the frog's foolish trysts as well?"

"Trysts?" Francis snarled.

"Yes, this 'fling' that you claim to be having."

Francis' face grew dark. "It is not a fling, _salaud stupide_."

Arthur laughed cruelly, feeling the blood pound in his head. A voice inside was telling him to stop, but he couldn't. "Not a fling?" he repeated with a smirk. "That's too funny, Francis. Someone like _you_ actually falling in love."

The Frenchman looked murderous as he stood up. "What are you saying, _Angleterre_? That I am unworthy of love?"

"Yes!" he spat before he could stop himself. _You bloody fool, what are you doing?!_

Everyone was silent. Alfred had stopped eating, his mouth gaping in shock at Arthur's outburst and how hurt Francis looked. Matthew opened his mouth to defend Francis, but Francis took a deep breath and glared down at the grinning Englishman.

"I see," he said slowly. He turned towards Ludwig, who was standing a few feet away. "May I be excused from the meeting today? I don't think I can stand to be in the same room as that English bastard right now."

"I…suppose," Ludwig replied, looking uncertain.

Francis nodded and walked to grab his coat before leaving through the door. Everyone watched him leave before uncomfortably turning to look at Arthur. On the outside he was smug, but on the inside he was tearing himself apart. Matthew stood over him and he glanced up, only to feel a hand smack him across the face.

"How _dare_ you," he hissed.

"Matthew—"

"Don't even act like you didn't deserve that."

"Matt," Alfred started.

"Al, shut up, or I'll hit you too."

Arthur could feel his cheek stinging, could feel unwanted tears forming. He stood up shakily, avoiding everyone's gazes. "I…I think I will excuse myself from today's meeting as well," he mumbled, trying to look as dignified as possible.

Matthew glared down at him. Arthur picked up his suitcase and walked towards the door, grabbing his coat on the way out. He sped down the hallways towards the lobby. His eyes stung from unshed tears. Francis was nowhere to be seen and he honestly couldn't blame him.

"What have I done?" he whispered, sitting on the steps leading up to the building. He put his face in his hands. _Why do I feel so fucking guilty?_

* * *

__

French translations:

salaud stupide - you stupid bastard (if it's wrong... *shakes fist at online translator*)


	4. Chapter 4

_**Author's note:**__ Here's chapter 4! Sorry it's kinda short ^^; I'm thinking I might post the next chapter as well to compensate for this one. Enjoy! _

Chapter 4

* * *

Jean was surprised when he heard the front door to Francis' apartment open. "Who's there?" he called, coming out of the bedroom. He was partially dressed for work.

"It's just me," Francis mumbled as he hung his coat up. He leaned in to kiss the dark-haired man.

"You're back early," he noted.

"There was an...argument before the meeting began between me and a...colleague."

"Oh. I'm sorry I can't spend the day with you, Francis. I have to get to work."

"I know. I'll just sleep or something."

Jean frowned and wrapped his arms around the blonde. "If you want to talk about it, I'm right here."

Francis smiled sadly and hugged him back. "It's probably best I don't say anything."

"You sure?"

Francis kissed him gently. "Yes, I am sure. Now go get ready."

With a smile, Jean walked back into his room to continue dressing and getting ready. Francis sighed heavily and took a seat on his sofa. He felt his phone buzzing and reaching into his pant pocket to take it out. Glancing at the name on the screen, he pursed his lips but flipped it open.

"_Oui_?"

_"Francis, I'm so sorry,"_ Matthew said quickly.

"It wasn't you fault, Mathieu."

_"I know but--"_

"I have learned to deal with _Angleterre's_ attitude. Something is bothering him and he took the usual path and took it out on me."

_"Francis--"_

"What?"

_"He didn't mean what he said."_

Francis smiled sadly even though the Canadian couldn't see. "He did, Mathieu. I have known him long enough to know when he is serious."

_"But--"_

"No more. I would really like to relax. So I'm sorry to make this short."

_"Yeah...bye."_

"_Au revoir_." Francis hung up and rubbed his forehead with his fingers. He heard footsteps and turned to see Jean dressed and ready to leave.

"You're sure you'll be okay?" Jean asked worriedly.

"Jean, darling, you need to stop worrying about me," Francis smiled as he stood up to embrace him. He turned his head to press his mouth against the other man's. "I will be waiting here when you get back and then we can head out to dinner," he purred.

Jean grinned. "All right, I'll stop worrying. See you later!" He grabbed his coat off the rack and walked out the door, leaving Francis utterly alone in his apartment.

_Arthur, what is bothering you?_ he wondered. _I can help if you would only let me..._


	5. Chapter 5

_**Author's note:**__ And here's chapter 5 because I'm nice and felt like posting it. I'm trying to write at least one or two chapters at a time so that I'm not pressuring myself. I've pretty much got the entire plot down for what's gonna happen in later chapters. I don't know if there will be smut, I doubt it, but we'll see. I'm so cruel to Arthur ;__;_

Chapter 5

* * *

When he made it back to his hotel, Arthur could only fall onto his bed. He knew a lot of nations were probably cursing his very existence at this point. Francis was most likely at the forefront. The things he had said...

He growled and swore to himself. "What is wrong with me?" he snapped to no one. "Why am I so angry about this?" He could just make things easy and admit he was jealous. But jealous of what? A human? Francis' affection for that human? It made no sense.

_I'm just concerned for a fellow nation,_ he told himself. _I know the dangers of falling in love with a human so I am only looking out for Francis' well-being. Yes. He's set himself up for heartbreak so it's my job, as his…well, ally, to keep him happy._

He was putting himself in further denial. There was a buzzing from his cell phone and he winced, fearing who it would be. He glanced at the name and held his breath. It was Matthew.

_"I'm sorry about before,"_ he had texted.

Arthur sighed and sat up, reaching up to feel the cheek the Canadian had slapped. He smiled faintly and decided to text back.

_**"No, you were right. I deserved it."**_

"I called Francis."

Arthur froze, his hands over the buttons. _**"Did you?"**_

"Yeah. He actually seemed pretty relaxed."

_**"Oh." **_

Relaxed? After that blowout? Then again, he had a lover - Arthur winced at that word - so his anger most likely had dissipated as soon as he went back to him.

_"R u ok?"_

_**"Yes. I'm fine."**_ He shut his phone off then and laid his head down on the pillows. He closed his eyes and promptly fell asleep.

***

It seemed forever when Jean finally walked through the front door again. Francis was on his feet to go greet him, wrapping his arms around his waist. "Miss me?" Jean teased.

"Miss you? Good God, I've had nothing to do all day while you were gone."

Jean laughed and turned around in his arms. "Really? You didn't watch porn? Read a dirty novel? Try out any new sex toys?"

Francis pouted. "Jean, I am insulted that you see me as some sexual deviant."

The brunette smirked, leaning in to kiss him. "Well aren't you?" he purred. His lips found themselves on the side of Francis' neck. Francis stifled a pleased moan, pulling back and taking Jean's face in his hands. He stared into the other's blue eyes and let his thumbs brush against the stubble on his cheeks.

"I love you," he whispered, fearing how comfortable and how wrong it sounded at the same time.

Jean smiled in return, not noticing his distress. "I love you too, Francis. But anymore time wasted right here and we might lose our dinner reservation."

"That's right!" Francis said as he remembered. "We better change then."

It took another thirty minutes for them both to be ready to leave. They took a cab to their restaurant, arriving just in time to make their reservation. Once they were seated outside and had ordered their drinks, Jean casually reached his hand over and grasped Francis'.

"So when do you think I'll be able to meet your friends?"

Francis stilled. "F-Friends?"

"Yeah. You can't expect me to believe you have no friends."

"A-Ah." Francis began to sweat, trying to find an excuse. "You wouldn't like my friends."

"Oh?"

"Yes. They're...well...they're different."

Jean laughed. "Okay...?"

"They're not French."

"So?"

"Jean, can we please just...drop it?"

He frowned, but shrugged. "All right, I get it. Not the best dinner topic." He took a sip of wine. "So what happened today?"

"I would rather not talk about that right now either," Francis mumbled.

***

Hours later, Arthur woke up from a deep sleep. He blinked lazily as he looked towards the digital clock. Dinnertime already? He wasn't very keen on the hotel food and figured it would be best if he got some fresh air. Making sure he had his room key, wallet, and phone with him, he left the hotel building and started walking down the street.

His mind wandered. All right, so what if he _was_ jealous, hypothetically speaking? Would he have lashed out so angrily at Francis because of his jealousy? Would there be a knot in his chest whenever he thought about what Francis and that human named Jean were probably doing at that very moment?

He sighed as he passed by little shops and restaurants. He knew there was a very nice restaurant coming up and since he was kind of dressed for it, he figured he might as well go eat there. Then he could hit a local pub if he was still feeling down. Something golden caught his eye as he rounded the corner towards the restaurant. His green eyes widened and he froze on the sidewalk.

Sitting on the outside balcony to the restaurant he had planned to enter...was Francis. At first he was going to turn right back around and go find the nearest pub to drown himself in alcohol. That was before he noticed the man sitting across from Francis. He was plain, as most humans were, with brown hair and nothing else remotely interesting as far as Arthur could tell.

They were deep in conversation and Francis was _smiling_ again and Arthur's heart felt like it was fluttering against his ribcage. _Fuck, I should just leave. I look like a prat just standing here._ But something else was nagging at him; telling him to stay and listen.

The two were speaking in French, but Arthur knew enough to keep up with what they were saying.

"...I really think this is going to work out," Jean was saying. "I haven't been able to publish any books in two years but my editor says this will be the year."

"I'm happy for you," Francis replied, smiling fondly. "I'm curious though. You've never let me read this new one."

"Because I don't want to jinx it. I'm so close and if it _does_ pull through then I can spend more time with _you_."

"Mmm, I like the sound of that."

Arthur watched them lean across the table and kiss. There was a long moment of silence for him, in which he just stared up at the man he hated with every fiber of his being and the man who had taken his enemy away. He swallowed hard and bit his lip. He didn't care about Francis at all. He really didn't. Even when the two pulled back and smiled at each other, even when he saw Francis grab his hand, Arthur remained where he was, feeling his heart break just a little.

* * *

_I'M SO SORRY ARTHUR D:_

_**Random note:**_

_Jean writes childrens' books for a living, in case anyone was curious._

_Also, I was watching a show the other night and one of the actors looks EXACTLY like how I picture Jean and I thought I'd share a pic of this actor so that you all can have a clear visual of Mr. Jean Dubois as I see him ^^ http:// www. usanetwork. com/ series/whitecollar/theshow/ characterprofiles/neal/gallery2/n01. jpg (take the spaces out when you copy/paste) _


	6. Chapter 6

_**Author's note:**__ Finally, I update! Not much to say here without spoiling anything, so just read and enjoy :3_

* * *

After standing around outside the restaurant and realizing what a complete idiot he was being, Arthur stepped inside. He saw the two out on the balcony and weighed his options. He could easily go grab a table inside the restaurant, far, far away from Francis and Jean. On the other hand, this could be his chance to finally meet Jean, regardless if Francis wanted him to or not.

He was still the country of England and decided it wouldn't be right for him to pass up causing France discomfort. So he asked the waiter to seat him on the balcony and followed after him, taking a seat at a table a few feet away from Francis'. He turned in his chair. He was sure Francis had told Jean lies about his life and most likely had said that the world meetings he went to were just "business meetings."

So he formulated a lie, that he was Francis' "colleague." He put on a fake smile and poked Francis' shoulder. "Francis, is that you, old boy?" he said. Francis turned, face paling and eyes widening.

_What are you doing here?_ Francis mouthed to him, but Arthur ignored him as he noticed Jean's curious looks.

"Oh and you have company," Arthur stated as he stood up and bowed. "Terribly sorry to intrude. My name is Arthur Kirkland. I work with Francis."

Jean seemed to brighten up considerably. "Do you?" he said, his English flawless.

"Yes. Though I had no idea I would run into you here, Francis."

"I prefer to keep my personal life away from work," Francis hissed.

Arthur faked a laugh and put his hand on Francis' shoulder. France eyed it as though he wanted to burn a hole in it.

"So what do you and Francis actually do?" Jean inquired. "Francis never tells me anything."

"He doesn't? Are you two close?"

He held his breath. "Yes," the brunette replied without delay. "We're actually-"

"Jean is my lover," Francis said sternly, glaring at Arthur. Arthur wanted to speak, but the anger behind those blue eyes made him falter. "And I would really appreciate it, _mon ami_, if you could let us get back to our dinner."

"O-Of course…"

"Nonsense, why don't you stay?" Jean interrupted, causing both Francis and Arthur to look at him in shock. "Francis, he's all alone. It's the least we could do to offer him a place at our table."

"But-"

"Please?" Francis frowned but finally nodded, gesturing to Arthur to take a seat. Jean smiled and pulled the chair out beside himself. "It's a real pleasure to meet you, Arthur," he said warmly. "I'm Jean Dubois." He extended his hand for Arthur to shake.

Arthur blinked and slowly brought his hand up to shake Jean's. Francis looked very uncomfortable and watched them both warily. "Y-Yes, it's nice to meet you too," the Brit mumbled.

"So have you and Francis been friends long?"

"Oh he isn't my-"

"You could say that," Arthur said softly. Francis closed his mouth and stared at him. "It feels like I've known him for…for centuries, heh."

Francis was silent as Jean and Arthur continued to talk. By the time they decided to leave, Arthur was surprised to find that he had enjoyed himself so much. Jean was actually a pleasant man, albeit very trusting. And even though his initial plan had been to pass quick hateful judgment on Jean, he couldn't do that now. Not with Jean smiling and asking to keep in touch.

Francis looked beyond upset with the turn of events, but Arthur didn't care at all. Before all three parted, Arthur went into the restroom with Francis close behind. The Englishman was washing his hands when Francis roughly turned him around and shoved him against the sink.

"What do you think you are doing?!" he shouted.

"I think I'm washing my bloody hands," Arthur snarled back.

"You know what I mean, _salaud_."

"I came here by accident, in case you were wondering. How was I supposed to know you'd be here with your human?"

"He's not my-"

"He _is_, Francis. He's _your_ human. You can call him whatever else you like, but it won't change the fact that you two are different in more ways than he can imagine."

"Shut up!" Francis shoved him further against the sink. "I love him."

Arthur snorted. "Really?"

"Yes! Jean means everything to me, but of course you wouldn't understand. You're a loveless bastard."

"I've loved humans before, frog. Don't you _dare_ think you're the only one."

"Is that so? Have you loved a human the way I love Jean?"

Arthur pushed him away and glared at him. "How am I supposed to know how you love him?"

"I think of him whenever I am alone, I dream of his smile when I am sad; I cannot put into words how much he means to me."

"You sound lovesick," Arthur sneered. "He doesn't even know you're a country, Francis – _his_ country. When will you tell him? When he becomes suspicious enough to ask?"

"S-Shut up."

"When he starts to notice how he ages and you don't?"

"_Tais-toi_!"

"When he is on his deathbed? Will you tell him then, Francis?"

"SHUT UP!" Francis spat, grabbing Arthur by the shoulders and lifting him up to shove against the wall. "Just…shut up," he snapped. "I know what I am doing."

"I highly doubt that," Arthur spat.

"Stay away from him."

He laughed. "Stay away? Even if _you_ hate me, Jean certainly doesn't."

"Does it feel nice not to be hated for once?"

Arthur narrowed his eyes and pushed Francis away from him. "You need to end this, frog."

"Why? So that I may be miserable?"

_He never had any sort of feelings for me to begin with. Why should I start believing if he lets this human go that he will magically start loving me?_ "Miserable?" Arthur repeated, noticing the tightness in his chest.

"Yes. You are a master at that emotion, _oui_?" Francis brushed off his suit. "Excuse me, Jean is waiting for me." He walked out of the restroom, leaving Arthur to lean against the wall. He silently went back to washing his hands and surprised himself by letting out a sob.

He blinked his eyes a few times and looked into the mirror above the sink. Tears were falling down his face and he had no idea why.

* * *

_French translations:_

salaud - bastard  
tais-toi - common phrase for "shut up!" There's a ruder one I could have used, but I didn't.


	7. Chapter 7

_**Author's note:**__ FFFF I AM SO SORRY FOR NOT UPDATING THIS SOONER. This chapter has actually been finished for awhile but I kept thinking there was something wrong with it so I didn't post it OTL Forgive me? D: But anyway, this is the chapter were things __**really**__ start to get interesting. I hope you enjoy it!_

Chapter 7

* * *

By the time Arthur had made it back to his hotel he was angry at himself _and_ Francis. After he washed himself before going to bed he heard his cell phone ringing. Curiously, he flipped it open to see an unknown number on the screen. _Who the bloody—_

He shrugged and pressed the talk button. "Hullo?"

_"Ah, hallo, Arthur. It's me, Jean."_

Arthur tensed up immediately. "Does Francis know you're calling?"

_"Er…no. I waited until after he was asleep." _

"I see. So why are you calling?"

_"Well I enjoyed meeting you tonight. Francis never talks about his work or friends."_ "Ah."

I'd imagine he wouldn't.

_"I was hoping you and I could perhaps meet for tea tomorrow morning?"_

"Tea?"

_"Yes, I have time before I need to get to my office and Francis told me he was meeting some friends, so I thought we could—"_

_Oh my god he thinks we're going to be friends._ Arthur could never fathom the way humans' minds worked. "That sounds…like a splendid idea, Jean," he replied.

_"Really? You don't mind?"_

"Tomorrow is my day off actually so I'm free."

_"That's great! I'll meet you at Café de Flore at 9am tomorrow." _

"All right."

_"Bonne nuit!" _

Arthur blinked as he set his phone down. Why did he agree to go? He didn't like Jean or anything. He was just a human. But perhaps some part of him was curious about why this particular human had caught Francis' eye.

When Jean woke up the next morning, he wasn't surprised to see Francis already gone. He had planned a day out with some friends; people Jean had yet to meet. He wasn't expecting the blonde home until later which gave him the perfect time to get to know Arthur.

Once he was dressed and groomed he made sure to lock the apartment door behind him as he walked to the café. He spotted Arthur there already and smiled warmly. "_Bonjour_," he greeted.

Arthur smiled in return with a nod. "Good morning," he replied. "Lovely day, isn't it?"

"It is," Jean noted as he sat down. "I hope this isn't too awkward for you. I know Francis would be furious if he knew we were meeting today."

It could have been the lighting, but Jean was almost certain Arthur had grinned at him. "Oh no, this is fine," Arthur said with a wave of his hand. "He and I might not agree on many things but a little morning tea with a friend's lover isn't so bad, yeah?"

Jean chuckled. "I suppose not." Once they both had ordered their tea and a small breakfast, Jean put on a serious face. "Arthur, I need to ask you something."

"Oh?" He leaned in closer as he sipped his tea. "And what would that be?"

The brunette frowned then before asking, "Is what you and Francis do illegal? Is that why he won't tell me?"

Arthur blinked a few minutes before he began to laugh. Feeling like a fool, Jean glared at him. "What is so funny?" he demanded.

"What Francis and I do," Arthur began once he had stopped laughing, "is something the public really shouldn't know about."

"Are you spies?"

"Certainly not."

He made a face. "Is it dangerous?"

"At times, I suppose."

"You said you and Francis argue a lot."

"Yes, we do." Arthur took another sip of his tea. "He's a few years older than me and has been in my life since I was a tiny little thing. I really can't imagine my life without him, even if he can be a pain in my arse most days."

"Oh. If you two are so close how come I've never seen a picture of you in his apartment?"

"Ah…our friendship is…strained."

"Do you have a picture of when you were both little?"

Arthur seemed to pale suddenly. "No, unfortunately."

"I have another question."

"Hmm?"

Jean took a deep breath. "I am sorry for bringing this up but, well, the other day Francis came home early from work and said he had gotten into a disagreement with a colleague. Was…Was he talking about you?"

Arthur stared at him a few minutes and set his tea down. He looked angry and Jean wouldn't blame him if he stood up and left. But then he smiled faintly. "Yes, we got into an argument at work," he mumbled. "He was doing something I didn't approve of and refused to see reason."

"Oh. But things seem to be better between you now, right?"

"I doubt it ever will be good between us."

"Well what if I could help you and Francis patch things up?"

Arthur's green eyes widened. "You…why would you…?"

"I hate seeing Francis so sad when I'm not around," he confessed. "He needs his childhood friend back. And it seems to me that you miss being around him as well."

"I…"

Jean smiled and then glanced at his watch. "_Merde_, I'm going to be late," he cursed. He stood up and placed a bill on the table. "Thank you so much for meeting me, Arthur. I'll call you later!" With that said, he ran down the sidewalk to hail a taxi.

Francis wanted to know why he had agreed to meet Antonio and Gilbert in a bar in broad daylight. "Because we're just that awesome," Gilbert said when Francis asked that very question. "Real men go to bars during the day!"

"_Non_, only desperate men," Francis groaned.

Antonio was happily munching on a tomato he had smuggled into the bar. "How are you feeling, _mi amigo_?" he asked Francis.

"Better," the Frenchman answered.

"So it's true then? What Artie was yellin' about at the last meeting?" Gilbert said as he swirled his finger in his beer.

"_Oui_."

Gilbert and Antonio exchanged looks. "Francis…"

"I know what you both are going to say," he sighed. "'It's foolish and that I am setting myself up for disaster and heartbreak.'"

"Hey, I know what you're goin' through," Gilbert snarled. "Okay, maybe not with all this mushy crap, but I get that you care about this guy – it's a guy right?"

"_Oui_, his name is Jean."

"Jean?" Antonio interrupted, his green eyes widening. "Not like Jeanne…"

"It's just coincidence!" Francis snapped and both the other nations stared at him in shock. He took a deep breath. "Sorry. But I have had many nights to contemplate this and I am not going to question it."

"Francis, after she died you were a mess," the Spaniard muttered. "I don't want to see you like that again."

"It was that bastard's fault she died."

"Arthur knows what you're going through—"

"He doesn't!" Francis looked wild suddenly. "He has never…never loved someone the way I love Jeanne. He could never understand."

"Aren't you forgetting about Bess?" Gilbert said with a raised eyebrow.

Francis stiffened.

"Artie loved Bess more than anything," the Prussian continued, taking a sip of beer.

"_Sí_, he would have done anything for her," Antonio added.

"You're right," Francis said softly after a long pause. "But that does not give him the right to tell me what to do."

"It doesn't," Gilbert said. "But it sounded to me like he was trying to make sure you didn't have to go through the heartache again."

"Really?" Antonio quipped. "I thought it was because he was jealous."

"_Jealous_?" Francis and Gilbert laughed.

"Why would he be jealous?" Francis said with a grin. The Spaniard shrugged. "_Mon ami_, I think you have been eating too many tomatoes."

Once Arthur had made it back to his hotel room, he thought back on what Jean had said. He was offering to help Arthur fix his 'friendship' with Francis. Not that they were ever really _friends_ to begin with. The idea was tempting and he was starting to truly regret lying to Jean because the man was kind and obviously cared about Francis a great deal.

In his anger and confusion, he ended up scouring the streets of Paris sometime after dark, looking for a pub and instead finding someone to keep his mind off of Francis, at least for the night. A gorgeous French beauty who called herself Rosette caught his eye and he figured since he was in France, he might as well do as the French do and fuck a hooker.

Needless to say, the sex wasn't the best he'd ever had. As she rode him, he looked up and noticed how very much she looked like Francis, without the chest hair and the stubble on the chin. Her eyes were blue and her hair was blonde and just over her shoulders, and he made the mistake of actually whispering "Francis", which Rosette heard instantly. She got off him in a huff, snapping something at him in French that he chose to ignore.

He was left with a boner and more confusing thoughts raging inside his head. After lying on his hotel bed for the better part of an hour after Rosette had left, he reached for his cell phone and dialed in Jean's number. It rang a few times and Arthur nervously waited for the other man to pick up.

_"Hallo?"_

"Yes, Jean, it's me," he said quickly.

_"Ah, yes. It's um…kind of late."_

"Yes, it is and I'm terribly sorry to bother you at this time—"

_"Jean, qui parlez-vous?"_ Francis' tired voice on the other end made Arthur's throat go dry. He froze for a moment, hearing the shifting of bed sheets and tried to ignore the image forcing itself into his brain. _Francis and Jean sleeping in the same bed, naked, wrapped up in each other's arms, whispering things in French—_

_"Mon éditeur, mon amour. Retournez vous coucher."_ There was a pause or two in which Arthur heard the distinct sound of lips smacking, but he ignored it, fearing his heart wouldn't be able to handle the truth. _"All right, I am back. Sorry for that."_

"N-No, it's quite all right. Um, well, the reason I am calling, Jean, is to…take you up on your offer."

_"My offer?"_

"About helping Francis and I mend our friendship."

_"Oh yes! You want my help?"_ Arthur could practically see his warm smile on the other end and forced himself to ignore the tiny bit of guilt he felt at manipulating the man.

He steeled his voice, trying to sound as professional as possible as he replied, "Yes, I wouldn't dream of asking anyone else for this task."

_"That is wonderful! I have tomorrow off, would you like to meet at that same café as before?"_

"That would be lovely."

_"Nine o'clock then. See you there, mon ami!"_ They said their goodbyes and hung up simultaneously.

_Mon ami_, Arthur repeated in his mind with a sour laugh. He relaxed into his pillows and smiled sadly. _I'm sorry, Jean. But I am __**far**__ from being your friend. _

* * *

**Translations:**

_Merde - Shit_  
_qui parlez-vous? - basically "who is it?"_  
_Mon éditeur, mon amour. Retournez vous coucher. - My editor, my love. Go back to sleep._


	8. Chapter 8

_**Author's note:**__ Oh dear god. There are not enough words for me to say how sorry I am for taking so long to update. My only excuse is that my muse for this story went away for a very long time and I had part of this chapter written but had no clue where I wanted to go with it. And then suddenly, a few days ago, I got my inspiration and muse back and I've made notes and now I honestly know how many more chapters there will be and how I want the story to end ;w; I've been bouncing ideas off my friend and typing these new chapters like crazy. I want to finish this story So, without any further adieu, enjoy chapter 8! _

* * *

**Chapter 8 **

* * *

They met at nine at the same café the next morning. Arthur told himself the guilt for lying to Jean would go away. He had lied to humans before so there was no reason for feeling guilty this time. And it wasn't even one of his own, so it shouldn't have mattered anyway.

Jean kept smiling at him and asking questions about his childhood. Arthur continued to fabricate stories and excuses. "I lived with my siblings in England for a very long time," he said. "Francis'...father had business to attend to there sometimes and so he would bring Francis along. We met that way."

"I see." Jean took out a notepad and scribbled something down. _Good Lord, is he going to write down everything I say?_Arthur groaned in his head. "Was Francis always so, hmm, nervous?" He was smiling again.

"Nervous?" Arthur scrunched up his brows. "No, he was, and continues to be, the complete opposite of nervous."

"Oh," the Frenchman mumbled, looking suddenly very downhearted.

Arthur shifted uncomfortably. "But perhaps he's only nervous when he's with you?"

Jean looked up at him with wide blue eyes. "But why just me? Do I scare him that much?"

"Of course not, Jean." Arthur placed his hand on the other's. "He loves you. When Francis is smitten, his demeanor changes."

"He has…been in love before then?"

Arthur swallowed hard, remembering a time, centuries ago, where Francis was so deeply in love with a human girl. "Yes," he whispered. "He was young; foolish. He let her bewitch him. In the end, she passed on."

Jean was silent. "I…had no idea," he finally said. "Francis doesn't talk about his past, or anything really."

"It was a very hard time for him. He…He blamed me for her death."

"What?" Arthur jumped as Jean slammed his hands on the table. "W-Why would he blame you for something you had no control over?"

_But I did. I watched her turn to ash before my eyes._"Because I did not approve of their relationship."

Jean shook his head in disbelief. "Still. That is no reason to blame someone for another's death."

"We've gotten past that, fortunately. Though if he is angry enough at me he will reopen old wounds."

"Which is why I am going to help mend your friendship," Jean said determinedly.

Arthur rested his chin in his palm with a solemn smile. _Poor fool._

* * *

When Jean returned home, Francis was waiting for him and looking very angry. "Where were you?" he growled as the brunette hung his coat up.

"I was out having breakfast with a friend," Jean said. "Why?"

"You didn't tell me you were going out."

"I didn't think I had to, Francis. I figured you had plans with some of _your_friends, whom I've yet to meet." Jean glared, not liking the way Francis was using the accusing tone with him.

Francis' face turned pink in embarrassment. "Sorry," he said softly. "I just…I woke up and you were gone and I—"

Jean's expression softened. He placed both hands on the blonde's face and leaned down to press a kiss on his lips. "Francis, I would never leave you."

"I know. I was just worried."

He smiled. "Well, we have the whole day to ourselves. What should we do?"

"Actually," Francis said with a grin, "I wanted to introduce you to my friends today. If you were all right with it."

Jean's smile widened. "Of course I'm all right with it, Francis!" He threw his arms around the other man in a warm embrace. _He's finally opening up,_he thought happily.

* * *

Francis was excited and nervous to introduce Jean to Gilbert and Antonio. His friends weren't the type of people he wanted his lovers to meet often. But Jean was special.

Antonio greeted them with a smile. Gilbert gave a salute before lowering his voice to Francis' ear, "What the hell is this about?"

"I wanted him to meet the both of you," Francis hissed back.

"Are you an _idiot_?"

Before Francis could reply, Antonio was already talking loudly and animatedly about various things. Jean was laughing, obviously enjoying himself. Francis smiled and sat down. Gilbert was still giving him the evil eye.

"So...Jean…what do you do?" Gilbert eventually grumbled out.

"I write children's books," he replied.

"Really?" Antonio seemed to bounce in his chair. "That's so cool!"

"Aha, it's not really…"

"Don't be so modest." Francis poked him with a grin. "Jean's created several best sellers."

"Wow!" Antonio's eyes were wide with delight.

Gilbert just rolled his eyes while Jean flushed pink. "I-It's nothing," he said. "Just something I enjoy."

"And are very good at," Francis added with a wink.

Jean smiled back at him. "Thanks. So, um, how do you all know each other?"

All three shared a quick glance. "It's complicated," Francis blurted out.

"…How so?"

"Well…"

"We met in university," Gilbert grumbled out. "These two," he pointed to Antonio and Francis, "were in an on again off again relationship when I met them."

Francis choked on his drink, while Antonio gently patted his back. "It was a long time ago," Antonio said with a sheepish smile.

Jean's eyes were wide and he suddenly looked like he was regretting asking anything at all. "It sucked, 'cause they were my roommates and so I'd always come back and see them doin' it on the couch—"

"_Gilbert_!" Francis nearly shrieked, ready to throttle the Prussian.

Gilbert smirked back at him. "I'm sure Jean can handle knowing you were with someone else before him, Franny. Right, Jean?"

The brunette avoided Gilbert's teasing grin and frowned.

"It really didn't mean anything," Antonio added. "We were different people then."

"Yes," Francis said as he cleared his throat. "It's all in the past now."

"But you're still friends?" Jean asked innocently. Francis could tell he felt a little hurt by this knowledge and inwardly started kicking himself for not being more honest.

"Antonio is one of the best friends I've ever had, regardless of our past together," Francis said, touching Jean's face gently. "I'm sorry I never told you sooner but, I did not think it was important enough to bring it up. Are you angry?"

Jean shook his head. "No. Just a bit shocked, I guess. I don't exactly have a clean record myself."

Francis smiled. "There. You see? All is well." He glared at Gilbert. "Can I have a word with you, Gil? In private?" Gilbert rolled his eyes but nodded. Francis pulled him towards a corner of the room and shoved him against the wall where no one could see or hear. "I know what you just tried to do," he hissed.

"What? Lighten the mood? Tell the truth?" Gilbert glared right back at him, though was a bit surprised Francis was so strong.

"You wanted him to feel jealous. You wanted him to doubt my feelings for him."

Gilbert shrugged with a grin. "Whatever you want to believe, Francis, go right ahead. Your relationship is doomed as it is."

Francis wanted to punch him, oh yes he did. But he knew if he did, Antonio and Jean would ask questions. He backed away and took a few deep breaths. "You're an ass," he finally mumbled.

Gilbert laughed. "Franny, I only said what I said to protect you. As much as I hate you, you're my friend."

"That is oddly sweet coming from you."

"I'm actually a pretty nice guy," he said. "Just don't tell anyone."

Francis smiled suddenly. "You have my word."

* * *

Arthur had not been expecting a call from Jean at the all that night. He'd barely been out of the shower before his phone began to vibrate and he picked it up.

"Hello?"

_"Arthur, can we talk?" _Jean sounded like he was whispering, like he didn't want anyone to hear what he was saying.

"Um…all right. But why are you whispering?" He sat down on the bed and started drying his hair.

_"I don't want Francis to hear."_

"Ah…" He took a deep breath. "So what is it?"

_"Well, I met Francis' friends today. I'm not sure if you know them—"_

"Oh I know them," he grumbled. "More than I really want to, honestly."

Jean chuckled softly. _"Yes, they're a bit odd. While I was there, his friend Gilbert mentioned something that confused and kind of upset me and made me realize just how much I really don't know about Francis at all. And since I know you've known him longer I was hoping you could maybe tell me some things."_

"…Now?"

_"Is now not a good time?"_

"Well, I…" Arthur really didn't have an excuse. What did he have planned for the rest of the evening? Reading a book? Wallowing in self pity? He sighed. "What do you want to know?"

_"How many people has he been with, besides me?"_

It was an odd first question. Arthur took a moment to respond. "You must understand something about Francis, Jean. He is a romantic. He loves to pursue people. Most of those people are flings and never last very long. You are honestly the first true relationship I've seen him in."

Jean was quiet for few minutes. Then, _"So he basically slept around a lot before meeting me."_

"He…well, I guess there's no denying it." Arthur couldn't tell how Jean felt about all this and wasn't sure if he should bother getting his hopes up.

_"Did you and he…?"_

Things were becoming very personal now and Arthur panicked. "Look, Jean—"

_"Tell me, Arthur. Please."_

_Fuck, why does he make me feel so bloody guilty?_ "A few times," he muttered. "We were young, experimenting, unsure of ourselves. I-It meant nothing." _Why am I trying to reassure him?_

_"I thought so. I sort of suspected this could be why your friendship is so strained now."_

"Huh? What? No, that's not—"

_"It explains a lot,"_ he said, almost in relief. _"You're both so hostile to each other because of this, right?"_

_Not exactly. I'm pretty sure the constantly being at war with one another caused a bit of it too._"Yes. It must be."

Jean laughed excitedly on the other end. _"Oh, this is exciting, Arthur! Now we know the root of the problem and we can fix it."_

"…How?"

_"You two need to have a sit down to just talk about your feelings."_

Arthur groaned. _Oh bloody fucking hell. _

* * *

_If it's not completely obvious, Arthur is kind of a jerk here. And Francis is too, as you'll find later on. The innocent one in all of this is Jean. I like exploring his character more because I want to make him likable to people. He's sweet and really cares about Francis and believes Arthur is his bff lol He has no reason to suspect otherwise._

_So, yeah, I hope you enjoyed this very belayed chapter. Hopefully it won't take me so long to update next time orz_


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